


A Contract Between Killers

by NoteInABottle



Category: Assassination Classroom
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Ambiguous Relationships, Anal Sex, Boys Kissing, Canon Compliant, Class 3 E (Assassination Classroom), Even though the canon is near perfect, Grinding, M/M, My love letter to this dead fandom, Politician!Karma, assassin!Nagisa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-05
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2020-06-10 06:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19495276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoteInABottle/pseuds/NoteInABottle
Summary: Nagisa is the best assassin in the world, but there’s one politician that he just can’t seem to kill.





	1. Chapter 1

The mountain air is cool against his skin, and damp from the recent rainstorms, and the underbrush smells like oily leaves and freshly overturned dirt.

Nagisa is flat on his stomach, warm and dry in his camouflaged clothing. Some of the latest technology boast that they can turn you truly invisible - that cameras hidden behind you and computer software can change the color of your clothing so that it matches the view behind you perfectly. But Nagisa has always believed in tried and true basics rather than fancy technology or software that could crash at the most inopportune time.

Let other assassins depend on clunky cutting-edge technology as crutches. He is the real thing.

Below him is the gorgeous panoramic view of a massive hotel overlooking a moor, with the number of sparse clumps of brushes matching the stars in the sky. This is a nest den for bureaucrats and politicians looking to make deals outside of the confines of a city, where important people congregate year after year to drink and flirt and fuck and pass money around like water.

Nagisa has been hired to kill one of those people today.

He hasn't been given a name, which isn't all that unusual. Sometimes, when the person who posts the contract is looking for revenge, all they have are the details of the crime. What _is_ unusual, however, is that this contract has specified the exact time and date of the requested killing, as if they had already done all the investigative work themselves, and are just too queasy to pull the trigger.

Nagisa usually only takes contracts where he can do some investigating beforehand. There are certain people that he will never touch - women or children, or men who have never committed a crime worse than adultery. That leaves him a small pool of money to work from, and yet he has been so effective with those that he has now gained a reputation.

He hears the sound of tires on gravel - the ending of the main road was several miles back. Hiding the existence of this monstrous building must not have been easy. There is a car approaching, and as Nagisa looks through the scope of his rifle, setting the magnification as high as it will go, he is able to just barely make out the license plate of the car coming down the road.

He has the license plate memorized. This too, was in the contract.

It matches.

Nagisa suddenly stills. His breathing goes deep instead of shallow. He is filling his body with oxygen so that in the next few moments, he can concentrate without being distracted by the need to breathe. He does not need to shift in order to get more comfortable. He has been lying like this all day, and can potentially lie like this for many more hours if necessary.

The black limousine is late to the party. The hotel is already vibrant with yellow lights and party music. The event started hours ago, when the sun was still up in the sky, scorching over the moor and drying out much of the rain that had fallen earlier. The sound of a muffled gunshot will not be louder than the laughter and shrieks of drunk men and women. The only people who will know are the drivers and the hotel doorman. And all they will see is some hapless politician-bureaucrat, possibly accompanied by his family, possibly accompanied by his mistress, crumple to the gravel in a heap.

The limousine comes up the driveway and stops.

Nagisa's breathing stops as well.

There is a slight flurry of movement as the driver gets out and comes around the other side. The doormen get ready to prepare for their new guest, unaware that their new guest may never even make it to the door.

The driver opens the door, and holds his hands out to prevent the target from banging his head against the top of the car as he comes out, not knowing that another threat is aiming for that head at that very moment.

Through the rifle scope, he sees Karma Akabane step out from his sleek black limousine. The crosshairs are directly on the apple-red of his hair, and the scimitar slash of his smug smile.

Nagisa's finger stills on the trigger.

For a moment, his mind is so blank with shock that he can hardly think. _This is impossible. This can't be happening. What is Karma doing here?!?_

Karma looks at him through the scope, almost directly into Nagisa's eyes. His smile becomes knowing.

.

Nagisa does not pull the trigger. How can he? This is _Karma_. Even _he_ still has enough left of a soul to remember _that_.

Instead, he breaks down his setup, undoes all the traps and the wires, the communication arrays and the rest of radio equipment. He's going dark, which won't freak out the organization he's with. He has gone dark many times before.

But this time it'll be different. This time, his target won't show up on the news headlines the next morning as a mysteriously killed leader. Then, they'll know that he has gone rogue.

Nagisa can't even bring himself to care. He packs away all his things, decides at the last moment to bring a knife - he knows Karma won't hurt him, but he's not naive enough to believe they are the only two people that exist in the world.

He goes down the mountain, silent as a snake, tense and coiled as if he were about to strike.

.

Karma is staying at one of those gilded, white-polished-marble-floors, drinks-when-you-check-in, resort-style hotels that this country enjoys putting bureaucrats in. The alcohol is there to make it easier for spies and other local plants to get state secrets from them. The rest is all for show, to say: _see how well we're treating you? Maybe if you listen to what we say, we can treat you a little better_.

Nagisa knows all the routes into the hotel already. He knows the blueprints like the back of his hand. If he had failed to kill his mark on his way from the car to the hotel, his plan B would have been to enter the hotel.

Granted, plan A through L had all been scrapped the moment that Karma Akabane's red hair had emerged from that limousine.

Nagisa shoulders his pack, black and nondescript, the same that American tourists often wore when on backpacking across multiple countries. He makes his way across the hotel lobby without even glancing at the valets and the service desk. He flashes a white index card at the concierge, which got him past the first level. After that, there is no one else around to fool.

"I should probably leave a one-star review for this hotel," Karma has been waiting for him. He's tall in his dark suit, sharp and gleaming and dangerous and familiar. "The security here is _shit_."

" _Karma_ ," Nagisa breathes, and he's a child again, seeing his friend after so _so_ very long. He reaches out, and Karma is already there, arms wrapped around him. The sudden proximity makes Nagisa shiver. It has been a long time since he has let anyone come this close.

"Hey Nagisa," Karma laughs, and ruffles Nagisa's hair so badly that it will have to be tied up again. "I'm glad my message got to you."

"You _idiot_ ," Nagisa pushes his hands away, scowling and relieved and frustrated and happy all at once. "What if someone else had taken up that contract? _Jesus_ , Karma. You could have been killed! What kind of shady politician posts a contract to kill _himself?_ Do you have a death wish?"

Karma, surprisingly, is serious. "It was the only way to contact you," he says before turning away. "In any case, it's not safe to talk here. Come with me."

.

The hotel room that Karma has been assigned speaks to his current station in life - it is lavish and beautiful, with multiple rooms and plush carpets. More importantly, it is private. He is the only one with the keys to this room.

Nagisa wants to smile and comment on these observations, and what they mean. Very few bureaucrats _actually_ have enough power to demand such respect, but clearly Karma has become well known as someone who can help you with things, even in a country like this.

But Karma is in no mood to talk about himself. Nagisa already knows all about _his_ life. Karma lives in the public eye after all, and Nagisa has kept track of all of his old schoolmates. They have all done well. In a certain light, _he_ has done well too, only he cannot call his friends and chat whenever he wants to, and he cannot readily tell them how he is doing.

Karma gets to the point quickly. He has never been one for many words, not when there is business to take care of.

"Come back, Nagisa." Karma's voice has all the slick confidence of a man used to being obeyed, but he follows it with a small pleading gesture - his knuckles brush against the fall of Nagisa's hair. "We were surprised when you didn't pick up on any of our other communications. It took us a month to figure out that you had abandoned all of those completely. It took us another month to figure out what you've been doing."

Nagisa flinches, but Karma continues without stopping. "I know you feel like you need to do this, to follow in _his_ footsteps, but this isn't you. You don't have to take his place in the world."

It hurts to have Karma understand him so completely. Nagisa had deep-sixed that thought over years and years of routine and professionalism - _I have to replace what I took away. Otherwise I'll never be forgiven for taking such a great talent away from the world._

"Do you think Koro-sensei would have wanted this for you?" Karma asks. "Our assassination classroom was supposed to have ended with his assassination."

Nagisa blinks at him. This? Coming from the most bloodthirsty member of their class?

"It doesn't matter," he says numbly. "I'm on at least five wanted lists. I'm stateless. I have nowhere to go back to, no way to live."

Karma grabs him, and for once his perfect control slips. He doesn't have to say anything. The anger on his face says enough. Nagisa knows what he's thinking, and it makes his chest tighten painfully to know that the offer is still there, after all this time.

" _No_ ," Nagisa hisses at him. "You would be killed within a week if you were found to be harboring me. _Any_ of you. I won't have that on my conscience. I've already killed -"

Karma shoves him against the wall, and cuts off the rest of his words with a kiss. It's not a romantic kiss. They know each other too well for that. They've taken the same lessons. It's just a tool Karma uses to shut him up without having to use his hands, a way to say _no, stop thinking. Stop thinking right now._ A way to say _I still love you. Don't be sad. I want you to feel better._

" _Don't_." Karma says when he backs away. His eyes are blazing with fury. " _Don't_ blame it all on yourself. We were all there. We all -"

"But I'm the one who drove the knife in," Nagisa says, and Karma falls silent. He presses his forehead against Nagisa's, disappointed that his kiss didn't work, angry that none of his arguments are working. The sound of their breathing fills the room, and Nagisa feels so dizzy that he might faint, from the desperate way Karma is holding him, as if he's afraid that Nagisa will leave. "And so I'm the one who has to take responsibility."

.

It hadn't taken long for public perception to turn against them, against them all. Koro-sensei had been busy, during his time away from the school. He had single handedly advanced science by decades. He had built entire communities, saved entire cities.

And it had all been done in secret, until the clues had leaked out, one by one, put together by testimonies of confused witnesses and the investigative efforts of the government's top detectives. Once they realized, with horror, that there hadn't been any chance of Koro-sensei blowing up the earth at all, the entire class of 3-E had gone into a state of shock that had lasted for weeks.

Nagisa was suddenly, abruptly taken out of his idyllic life that had only _just_ started to come back together. His parents were talking again. His friends were all moving on with their lives, healing slowly but surely from that immense, immense death.

It was just that the world changed too quickly sometimes.

It had come on the heels of the government's conclusion - that the entire Assassination Classroom had been a mistake, that those at the higher levels of the military were responsible for setting up such a dangerous experiment and thus should be punished. And finally, that Nagisa Shiota would be the scapegoat - the one solely responsible for killing a creature as kind and wonderful as Koro-sensei, removing once and for all one of humanity's greatest gifts.

The weeks that followed were a nightmare that got worse and worse with each time Nagisa fell asleep. Charges were drawn up and pressed. A kangaroo court was found. The world went mad from the revelation, and class 3-E was powerless amongst it all. The world was a wide place, and even though they had been trained to take it on, it was far too early for them to do anything against the current system.

Nagisa had been given a choice, one in the middle of the night, surrounded by his friends wearing faces of resignation and fury and terror and sadness, so very much like the night Koro-sensei had died. He could give himself up, to this sham of a government that had decided to sacrifice him to the mindless masses. Or he could run away, disappear into another country, another life, and wait for it all to die down.

He chose to run.

.

"Things have changed," Karma says, and Nagisa is pulled back to the present by the firm press of Karma's hands against his face. Karma is close to him now, still not letting him go, still intense in his fury and determination. "I finally have enough influence to change things now. We need you to come back, to make a full testimony about what happened that night. Say that it was _all_ of us who killed Koro-sensei, not just you. Every single one of us will be there, and we'll agree. They can't do anything to _all_ of us."

Nagisa puts his hands over Karma's. "It's too late," he says softly. It has been too late ever since he took that first contract, ever since he took that first step down this dark path. "I have blood on my hands. Thank you for doing this for me. Tell _everyone_ that I said thanks."

They must have worked to the bone, amassing power and influence and good standing for most of their lives. They would throw it all away for him. The thought makes Nagisa feel warm and loved and safe as nothing else ever could. Tears even prick the backs of his eyes, and he does not have to feign his gratitude. That had been the plan. This had always been the plan, all those years ago when the remnants of class 3-E had gathered on that rooftop and had given Nagisa a choice - to give in or to run and wait, to surrender or to fight. Either way, he had been doomed to a life in the dark, but at least it was a dark of his own choosing. Until Nagisa had become an assassin for a living.

"They're not going to take that for an answer," Karma points out, dry and cutting Nagisa's tears off with how pissed he sounds. "This isn't a request, Nagisa. This is an order, from all of us. Come back. We have a plan to finally fix everything for you. Your family, your life, you can have it all back."

Nagisa shakes his head. "This is the only thing I can do now. I don't know how to do anything else."

Karma looks as if he's about to kiss him again, he looks so pissed. He has an angry set to his mouth and an impatient look in his eyes. He was never really any good at putting up with bullshit from others.

"Then _learn_ ," he hisses into Nagisa's face, challenging and demanding all at once. "Or have you stopped learning ever since Koro-sensei died? Have you been stuck in that time, like a _child_ , while the rest of us have been growing up and fighting our way through the world?"

Nagisa tries to twitch away from him, in horror. He has wondered this himself, but with Karma in front of him, so tall and adult and grown up, so different from what he remembers, it's starkly obvious. He _has_ been frozen in time, just as effectively as a cryogenic chamber, not just in height but also in mentality.

In the end, it’s the anger in Karma’s eyes along with the fact that he’s here, that finally makes Nagisa snap out of the dark mood he’s been in this entire time. Karma is _here_ , telling him that it’s over, they’ve done it, they’ve found a way to save him.

_Trust me,_ Karma seems to be saying, with a desperation that Nagisa has never seen from him before, not even during his initial attempts to kill Koro-sensei.

Nagisa takes in a deep breath and forces himself to be calm.

"Alright," Nagisa says, and feels the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders.


	2. Chapter 2

He lied.

Of _course_ he lied. There's no going back, for someone like him. Nagisa knows better than to risk his friends and all their hard-earned livelihoods for such a risky gamble. But still, it had been nice to pretend, for a while.

Karma knows, of course. He cuffs Nagisa to the bedpost before he leaves, saying: "I'm going to make a call to the others. Don't move."

His eyes linger on Nagisa, as if he's reluctant to look away. He flashes an insolent smile before he leaves. "If you're still here when I come back, I'll reward you," he says, and there's such an unfair amount of temptation in that offer that Nagisa almost can't believe it. When has _Karma_ learned to use psychological tricks like that? Clearly, his repertoire of skills has expanded.

Nagisa is out of the handcuffs thirty seconds after the door has closed.

He goes to the door and can hear Karma speaking to their friends, their classmates from 3-E. He desperately hopes that they're doing well. He wishes that he could pass on some sort of message to them - _I'm doing well. Don't worry about me. Don't risk your lives for someone like me._

When he breathes in, he thinks he can taste some of the cologne that Karma had been wearing. It's an oddly comforting thing, in this fancy hotel, with its expensive scents and heavily perfumed cleaning agents. It settles somewhere in the back of his mind, in his memory, the same part that reminds him of _home_.

But there is no place for him to call home anymore, not with what he's done, the people he's killed.

Nagisa goes out the window, into the pitch-black sky, with no moon and no stars. He does not look back.

.

Karma, understandably, is _pissed_.

Nagisa goes to a lot of trouble, you know, smoothing things over with the organization that he's with. He makes up an incredibly convincing cover story - that the kill order had been a lie, a trap. He managed to get the contract taken off the boards. Karma would be safe. No one even knew that he had been a target.

He tries to go into hiding. He has enough money saved up to disappear for a while. He knows the best way to discourage his friends from their plan is to not give them any feedback. Maybe they'll think that he has died. Maybe they'll give up on him that way.

But then he sees a kill order from the board, and he can _hear_ Karma's rage bubbling out through the black printed letters on the page.

 _Nagisa, you little snake,_ it says, and wow, trust Karma to call him out like that. _Golden Clock Tower, England, in three days time. If you wanna kill Karma Akabane, at least do it in person. I'll have 3 million on me in cash, and anyone else who wants it can give me a try. I'll take you all on._

Nagisa slams the computer screen shut and nearly throws it across the room. He's so frustrated that he wants to cry. Around him, the dim lighting in the hotel room mocks him with its remote blandness. He tried so hard to get away, but it seems like Karma has now found a way to contact him. And that's not really a message he can ignore.

" _Damn it,_ " Nagisa hops to his feet and looks for something to throw, anything. He picks up a mug, but when it hits the wall, it just bounces harmlessly onto the floor and doesn't shatter. He's not that strong, apparently, even when he's filled with rage. If Karma saw him now, he'd probably be laughing his head off thinking that Nagisa was being _cute_. Nagisa snarls at that imaginary Karma. _It's not funny_ , he thinks.

Then he goes to pack.

.

Golden Clock Tower, to Nagisa's horror, is one of the best fucking places to get shot at in the entire country.

It's in the city, nestled amongst a ton of other tall buildings, and it has a huge open section at the top that's just filled with tables and chairs. There's a cafe at the very top, with a perfect view of the rest of the city. There are at least a hundred perfect spots for snipers to set up shop, a hundred dark-tinted glass windows, fifteen rooftops with easy line-of-sight into the tower. Nagisa wants to scream.

He doesn't go to the top. Instead, he makes a full sweep of the area for his _competition_.

The first man that he corners is taking a smoke break, wearing dark sunglasses and a beanie over his head. He freezes when Nagisa puts a gun to his head, and slowly puts his hands up.

"Leave," Nagisa says, in French, because of the beanie. The man gives him a befuddled look, and Nagisa repeats his order in English.

"I got no issue with you, man," the assassin stammers as he tears down his post, eyes bouncing between Nagisa's gun and his stuff. "Just don't shoot. I don't need to come in between whatever it is you have with that red-haired fellow."

Nagisa lowers his gun, because it's making the man nervous, which is slowing down the pace of his packing. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you must be Nagisa, right?"

Nagisa groans internally. Now he sees Karma's plan. He's not only going to get _himself_ killed, he's going to make sure the rest of the world knows that Nagisa is the one who's done it.

He sends the man on his way with a threatening look that seems to terrify the man out of his mind. Then he goes on hunting for other assassins who might be here for the 3 million.

He finds another twelve before the end of the day, and dispatches them all in much the same way. They know his reputation, and assassins are generally a cowardly lot. A gun muzzle pressed against the back of their head tends to ruin their day, and make them a lot less likely to risk their lives for a measly 3 million. Nagisa gets a few more comments about the nature of this job, and how crazy Karma Akabane must be to flaunt himself like that.

 _I know_ , Nagisa thinks, with a strange mixture of exasperation and fondness. Karma has never been the assassin type. He's just a little too - a little too _visible_ \- for that sort of thing.

When he's done clearing the area of assassins - except for him, that is - Nagisa goes to the foot of the tower, leans against its shining walls, and waits.

He's still waiting there when the sun is low in the sky, and the reddish tint to the clouds is reflected in all those glass buildings and silver streets, and a black limousine pulls up to the front of the tower. Nagisa folds his arms, schools his expression to one of cold fury and watches Karma Akabane step out as if he's appearing at a ball, and not into a death trap of his own making.

"Nagisa," Karma's voice is falsely cheerful, bright, like it only ever gets when he's pissed off beyond all human limits.

"Karma," Nagisa returns, in his best approximation of that tone. He pushes himself off of the wall behind him, and catches Karma around his necktie, swinging him around so that they are going in the other direction, away from the tower.

Karma only stumbles a little. "I thought we had a date," he says smoothly. "Do you know how long the waitlist is for that cafe up there? I had to really pull some strings."

"Shut up, Karma." Nagisa can't wait to get Karma out of here, out of sight from all those open windows and the threat they pose. He can feel eyes on him like little needles poking into his skin. He knows Karma can feel it too, but the other boy just smiles, calm and relaxed, and follows him as if they have all the time in the world.

Nagisa breathes a sigh of relief when they finally make it into one of the narrower side streets, out of view. He's found a safe house here, or at least a temporary one. Karma doesn't object when Nagisa leads him down a flight of stairs into a shitty motel, a far cry from the beautiful gilded mansion they had last met in.

Here, the corners are cracked and the paint on the walls are faded. The keys are dingy and have lost their golden shine. Nagisa digs his key into his temporary room, and turns it with far more force than necessary. He can feel Karma's eyes on the back of his head, full of predatory intent. He fights down the urge to shiver.

"Is this how you've been living, Nagisa?" Karma follows him into the cheap motel room, and looks around with mock sympathy. "I can't believe you, I thought you were raised better than this. Don't you know it's _dangerous_ to be in this kind of place? You never know who you might meet -"

Nagisa shuts the door behind them so hard that the force rattles the walls. Karma falls silent, and his expression becomes serious, watching Nagisa's every move.

" _Stop doing this,_ " Nagisa hisses. "Stop putting your life on the line. Stop dangling it in front of me like bait. You're really going to get killed one day. If I miss the signal, or if someone else snaps up the contract before I do -"

Karma kisses him. He hasn't listened to a single word that Nagisa just said. He's _infuriating_ , and what's even more infuriating is the fact that Nagisa can't get out of his grasp _._ Karma is stronger than him. Nagisa doesn't even try to contest that. And Nagisa has inadvertently come into his range, furious and desperate to get his point across, to convince his friend to stop risking his life for a hopeless cause.

Since Karma isn't getting the message verbally, Nagisa bites his lip.

He can't bring himself to bite down hard. He doesn't actually want to hurt Karma. And despite their awkward position, and the fact that Nagisa is still angry, a strange shiver goes down his throat and into his chest at the way Karma's breath hitches. The kiss deepens. Karma is trying to make him dizzy, probably so he can convince Nagisa more easily.

 _Shit_. It's working.

Nagisa considers pulling his knife. He considers biting down harder. He considers trying to catch Karma by surprise, trying to _force_ him to stop with the threat - a very real threat. But this is Karma. He can't actually do it. His bloodlust would dissipate before it even formed, and Karma is experienced enough to tell that sort of thing. He wouldn't take any threat seriously, if it came from Nagisa that halfheartedly.

"You're really good at making a man feel rejected, Nagisa." Karma doesn't mean it, but he does do a good job of sounding hurt. He's not someone who's easily hurt, and Nagisa can tell that he's half joking. "What, I know I'm out of practice, but am I really that bad of a kisser?"

Nagisa flushes red. "Kissing has nothing to do with it," he mutters. "And by the way, _stop that._ It's -" _distracting_ , he wants to say, but that's actually exactly what Karma wants, so Nagisa bites his tongue.

"It's not helping." That's not much better. Nagisa hasn't actually been practicing his linguistic skills. Assassins live a pretty solitary life. He hasn't really had to communicate in a long while.

"Well," Karma almost sounds like he's losing his temper. "You're not listening to any of my _other_ arguments, and since you clearly won't listen to _reason_ , I'll need to resort to other methods."

Nagisa blushes hard. "You're not playing fair," he says.

Karma draws back to look at him. Nope, that's a glare. " _Not playing fair?_ " That's a challenge in his tone. His hands come up to Nagisa's face. This time, when he kisses Nagisa, he goes all in, filling him with so much heat that Nagisa thinks he's going to faint. When he's done, his hands are tangled completely in Nagisa's hair and their bodies are pressed close together and Nagisa can't breathe for the way that Karma is looking at him. "You're not giving me any other choice."

It takes a _lot_ of effort to refocus. "You don't have to do this."

Almost as a reply, Karma spins him around and slams him into the wall, grinding against him in a way that they were _definitely_ not taught in school. Nagisa's mouth opens in a moan, and he's so shocked to hear that sound coming out of him that he doesn't really pay attention for the next few moments. He can feel himself growing incredibly hard from the weight of Karma's hands against his skin, the slide of their bodies against each other. Karma has always been a magnetic presence in Nagisa's life, but now Nagisa can't do anything except think of ways to get closer, more, _anything_ , to feel that again.

He's very quickly losing the thread of their conversation. He's pretty aware of the fact that this is a trap, that Karma's planning _something_. Nagisa is the one who has walked into a trap here, and he knows it. Karma's either buying time, or planning to handcuff him again, or something. And in order to do that, he has to distract Nagisa. He's doing a fucking incredible job of it, which Nagisa is kind of jealous of, in a distant way, with the part of him that is not all blazing heat and shocked desire.

Plus - and this is why Nagisa hasn't broken free already - _this is Karma_. Karma would never do anything to hurt him. So that's why Nagisa gets swept up in all of this, because a part of him is curious as to how far Karma will go, and what he will do, all in order to keep Nagisa with him for a moment longer.

That is how they end up on the bed, Karma's necktie coming loose under Nagisa's fingers, and Nagisa's belt coming undone and being thrown off to one side. Nagisa still hasn't gotten over his stunned state of shock after that first insistent press of hands pushing him against the wall. Everything that has happened since then is a hazy blur of searing kisses and heated skin.

"Wait, Karma," Nagisa feels like he's coming up for air, whenever he regains enough coherent thought to understand where they are and what they're doing. It's only a matter of time before he gets dragged under again, by the way Karma's fingers trail against his skin, and the way his kisses taste. "Karma, are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure," Karma sounds a little breathless. "I'm the one who volunteered to go and find you. I've been trying to find you for _so goddamn long_ , Nagisa, you have no idea -"

" _Karma_ ," Nagisa says sharply, because Karma has just given him a near-fatal blow, and has wrapped his fingers around Nagisa's cock. The sensation of it races up along his spine. It nearly takes the top of his head off with it. He's writhing against the sheets now, too far gone to pay attention to anything else. His arms come up to wrap around Karma's shoulders. He can't get enough of Karma's scent, that rich, heady scent that reminds him of home, and makes him dizzy.

The rest of their clothes come off in a blur, with Nagisa still too incoherent to remember much of anything besides the way Karma's hand is stroking him up and down. He's not sure if he managed to say anything or not. He doesn't remember hearing Karma say anything either. At this point he's just grateful that he's not drunk, and might be able to salvage some remnants of this memory tomorrow morning.

"Nagisa, tell me you want me," Karma's voice is warm and shuddering in his ear. He's moving against Nagisa now, grinding their cocks together. He's so warm and large and alive that Nagisa feels overwhelmed by him, mesmerized by him.

"I want you," Nagisa replies immediately. It's the right thing to say, apparently, because he's immediately rewarded by Karma's cock pressing against his entrance. Nagisa throws his head back and begs for more, grabbing at Karma's hips, and trying to pull him closer. He suddenly needs Karma inside him, more than anything. There's an ache inside him that has been growing steadily for the past half hour, and now he thinks he's going crazy with it. "I want you, Karma. I need you. _Please_ -"

The slide of Karma's cock into him is torturously slow, but Nagisa revels in every second of it. He can feel himself getting stretched out, and relishes in every sensation that results from it, whether it's pain or arousal.

" _Karma_ ," he begs. He wants Karma fucking into him as deeply as he can go. He wants Karma to do whatever he wants with him, cuff him to the bed or distract him or whatever, because any of it is worth _this_ , this sweet, savory taste in his mouth, this unbearable heat just underneath his skin.

Karma shivers against him, like a torrent of water has just run through him. He mouths against the side of Nagisa's neck, his fingers dig into Nagisa's shoulders, and then he says, " _Nagisa_."

Nagisa doesn't remember what happens next. He finds himself in the throes of a white-hot heat that has consumed him completely, his throat open on the sound of incessant moans, and his fingers clutching the sheets beneath him in a death grip. He feels as if he's just been shot, and as if he's just come back to life. There's a thick fog in his head, and above him, Karma looks as if he's just seen the world split into pieces and then rearrange itself back together.

Nagisa realizes that the white stuff in between them is his come, and he's gotten it all over Karma's skin. He jerks guiltily and tries to move away, but Karma pins him right back down onto the bed.

"Don't move," he says shortly, but there's an edge of panic in his voice too. His eyes are fixed on Nagisa's face, and there's a vulnerable look in his eyes. Nagisa realizes what's happening just before Karma does, so he smiles up at Karma, one of his best smiles - the kind that shows all the love he's buried in his heart and hidden away until now.

Karma drops his head onto Nagisa's shoulder. His entire body convulses as if he's just been stabbed. Inside him, Nagisa feels Karma come in long, helpless jerks of motion. His gasps are almost enough to make Nagisa go crazy all over again, and as it is, he still blanks out for a long moment before realizing that Karma has now pulled out of him.

"I was gonna reward you with this last time," he said. "But you ran away before I could do anything. I'm not gonna make that mistake again."

His hands come down next to Nagisa's shoulders, so that he's caging Nagisa in with his body. His eyes are gleaming like burnished gold in the dim light. "You're going to stay right here," he says dangerously. "You're not going to move a single inch. Because if you do, I'm never touching you again."

His fingers come up to brush Nagisa's cheek, and Nagisa has to close his eyes at the heat that hits him.

Karma smiles once he sees that, and sees that Nagisa understands.

When he leaves, Nagisa tries his best to get up, only to realize that his wrist has been handcuffed to the bed after all. And all his tools are in his clothes, which Karma has flung to the opposite side of the room, far out of reach.

Nagisa settles against the headboard, considers dislocating his fingers to get out, but ultimately decides against it. By that time, Karma has already come back, and he cleans them both up with gentle efficiency.

"Are you going to bring me my clothes?"

Karma smirks at him. "No, you'll have to sleep like this."

Nagisa huffs an exasperated breath. "Was this really your plan?"

"Of course it was."

Karma settles in under the covers, and drags Nagisa into his embrace. They lose themselves for a long while in long, slow kisses.

Then Karma hooks an arm around Nagisa's waist. His eyes open up to little slits, and he looks so incredibly domestic that Nagisa's little black heart melts into goo.

"Stay," he says softly, and it sounds a little like a question.

Nagisa stays.


	3. Chapter 3

But not for long.

For a couple days, he feels like he is living on borrowed time, in someone else's life. Karma wakes him up in the mornings with slow, lazy kisses and fingers that trail down his skin in all sorts of promising ways. His smiles grow less sharp-edged and mistrustful, grow more warm and open with each passing day. Nagisa bides his time, perhaps longer than he should have, because - he has to face it, now - he's in love with Karma.

This isn't anything new. He has always loved Karma's incredible personality and fierce intelligence. Before, he could only look at Karma from afar. There had been no way for them to ever stand upon the same stage, in the same battlefield. Now, though, at least in the field of assassination, they are able to think on the same level and communicate without words.

That's why it's so difficult to escape.

Karma knows him well. He knows that Nagisa is terrified of going back into the light, facing the cameras and the court of public opinion, terrified of facing memories of what he has done. He knows that Nagisa searches for the key to his handcuffs every day, knows how often Nagisa has considered dislocating his fingers just to get away.

"Trust me," he says, in between the kisses that he uses like other captors might have used drugs, to sedate Nagisa and keep him calm. "I won't let anyone hurt you. You aren't alone."

"I know," Nagisa replies, soft and warm, and tastes the metallic aftertaste of the key under Karma's tongue.

He pretends not to notice, but it was a message from Karma anyway. To get free, he would have to hurt Karma for it. To run away, he would have to get past the distraction of all those kisses, and pry his fingers into Karma's mouth and make him a liar.

That hurts. That is a far more effective message than Nagisa could have imagined. He feels his resolve wavering as he stares at his best friend, his lover. He knows how much Karma hates liars.

Karma smiles back at him, lazy, challenging. His eyes shine with the kind of arrogance that Nagisa loves him for, and so when Nagisa kisses him, he doesn't think about the key at first.

  
  
  


A long time passes before Nagisa remembers that this is a dream. But that doesn't make waking up any less painful.

The wake-up call comes with a knock on the hotel room door.

"Room service!" Someone calls, a woman's voice, slightly accented.

Karma and Nagisa look at each other.

"Did you get room service?" Karma asks, confused.

But Nagisa is already bracing himself hard against the headboard, his insides going cold and frozen to numb the pain. The chain rips free of the wall in a violent jerk.

He has forgotten what day it is - he has forgotten all about the flow of time. How could he have been so _stupid._ This place was only ever meant to be a temporary safe house. He never should have stayed here for so long.

Nagisa throws Karma to the floor, and follows him down to the ground right after.

" _Fuck_!" Karma gasps, but Nagisa can't waste breath on him to apologize. He stays silent and low the ground, behind the bed - particle wood, won't stop bullets -

The knock comes again. "Hello?" the woman calls. "Is anyone there? Room service!"

Karma is getting to his feet before Nagisa can stop him. His eyes are on Nagisa, not on the door. With a chill, Nagisa realizes that Karma thinks he's trying to use this as a diversion, to escape.

"Get _down_ ," Nagisa hisses. Karma's expression changes, but too late.

Before he even finishes, the door is kicked open, the lock shearing away from the wall, splinters flying into the room. The hallway light floods in, revealing a woman in a white uniform, masked. She's holding a gun, small but deadly accurate at this range.

She locks in on Karma, who has no time to react. He is tense and coiled like a mountain cat, eyes burning with fury, ready to move in an instant if she pulls the trigger. He looks around for Nagisa, but Nagisa is gone.

"Who are you?" he demands, as if he is the politician he is and not a man about to be killed. "What the _fuck_ are you doing in my room?"

"Where is he?" the woman's voice is accented and clipped. Russian? Karma's eyes narrow at her. She still has her gun trained on him, but it's clear that he is not her intended target. She would much rather be pointing the gun at someone else instead.

"I'm the only one -" Karma tries to shift, to get a better angle of her face.

" _Stop right there!_ " The woman is just as tense as he is. In fact, she might be the more frightened one. She starts talking to the walls. "Don't move! Either of you! If you touch me, he dies!"

Nagisa comes at her out of nowhere. He's smaller than she expected, apparently. And much faster. The gun twists out of her hands, spinning away from her in the air. A loud clatter of chain links is her only warning. But it's already too late. In one motion, Nagisa's arm is around her neck, and in his hand is the sharp gleam of a knife.

He pulls, one sharp motion, like breathing. Red blooms in the air like flowers, or soundless fireworks.

  
  
  


It takes Nagisa a long moment to realize that this is not a dream. He is not having a nightmare.

Karma is still standing, shocked, on the other side of the room. Nagisa can't look at his eyes, can't face the judgement that might be waiting there.

He has just killed a woman, a woman no different from Irina-sensei, right in front of his childhood friend.

_Oh,_ he remembers, now that there is the familiar cool of blood on his skin and red on his fingers, and death in the air. _That's right. I kill people. This is who I am._

How had he forgotten that?

Then he remembers Irina-sensei and her sad smile, saying: _there's a reason why people like me can't fall in love._

The woman is still bleeding out on the carpet. Nagisa doesn't recognize her, but he knows where she's from. His organization is full of paranoid people, and they must have been following him. After days of silence, they must have assumed that he had been captured, or worse, that he had decided to give them up.

That was the thing about becoming an assassin. Once you entered that world, and once you started to recognize faces, it became impossible to leave. You knew too much. Too many people knew you. People who killed for a living.

"Karma," he tries to say, but the name doesn't come out quite right. Had they really been kissing, moments ago? It all feels like a dream now.

Nagisa looks up, strangely woozy, like he's in shock. This is going to get him killed, he knows. He needs to have his eyesight back. He needs to be clear and calm and focused. He's in danger, they should move. They need to get out of here as quickly as possible.

But he's not the cold assassin anymore. He's just a kid again, nineteen and desperately scared by the person he's become.

" _Karma_ ," he chokes out, and then suddenly Karma is there, holding his face in his hands. Reality blurs out as his vision does, and Nagisa clings on to the warmth of Karma's skin as if it is the only thing holding him together.

"Are you hurt?" Karma asks, because of course, trust the politician to have ice in his veins right now. "Nagisa, look at me."

"Get the gun," Nagisa gasps. His body won't listen to him. He's clinging onto Karma like a child, hindering his movements instead of getting up and moving, which he should be doing. "We have to run. We have to get out of here."

"You're bleeding."

He is, but it's from the handcuffs, and not from a bullet wound. No discharge. No bullet fired. The woman had either hesitated, unwilling to kill a third party, or she had died too fast. Nagisa feels sick to his stomach. He knows all sorts of things about this woman - how fast she moves and how fast she kills, but he doesn't even know her name.

"Hey. _Hey!_ " Karma squeezes his face in his hands. Nagisa struggles against that touch - he can't be restricted, not now. He has to run. He has to fight.

"It going to be fine - "

He can't breathe, the world is going black around him. There's so much blood. He's so scared. There's no way out of this darkness for him, not now, not ever.

"It'll be okay. It's okay. It's okay."

Nagisa wishes he were a kid again, wishes that words like that could have an effect on him.

"It's not okay," he says, quiet, despairing, wishing he could scream. "Karma, it's not going to be okay. They'll send people after us, and when they find this, they know that you were involved. They'll put the pieces together. They'll figure out the connection between you and me. They'll think that you killed her, or worse, that you hired _me_ to kill her. They'll think it's an attack on them."

"Nagisa - "

"They'll hunt you down," Nagisa continues, starting to cry in earnest now, now that he's remembered how to. "They'll kill you and everyone you love, your family, everyone from class 3-E, maybe even everybody from Kunugigaoka. Karma, you don't understand, _these_ are the people that I work with."

Karma doesn't even blink. He catches Nagisa in his arms, his voice steady. "We'll deal with it, Nagisa."

He doesn't understand. They thought they were risking their livelihoods for him before, but now they were risking their _lives_ for him. Nagisa can't allow that.

"I'm sorry," Nagisa whispers. He bites at his fingernails, a habit that he never had from his childhood. Karma is smoothing his hair away from his face, far more tenderly than Nagisa deserves.

"Let me call the police," Karma says, so rock-steady and certain and sure that Nagisa almost wants to believe him, and trust that everything will be okay. "Once we run an ID check on her, we'll be able to tell where she came from. Let them take it from there; you need to come home."

_Home_ , Nagisa's heart twists at the last moment. He wonders how his mother is doing, and if she smiles bitterly when she thinks of him, her second chance with its unexpected endgame. He wonders if his father will even recognize him if they meet again.

"Karma," he says softly, his heart in his mouth. When Karma looks at him, Nagisa surges up to kiss him, a full kiss with everything in it - all his desperation and longing, a silent plea for forgiveness. What he has with Karma is probably the only remnant of _home_ that he has left.

When he's done, he pulls back and Karma blinks at him, worried and confused. His eyes remind Nagisa of the sun sometimes, with how bright they are, and how they're always a little painful to look at directly. No wonder, given how much of his life Nagisa has dedicated to the moon.

"I'm sorry," Nagisa whispers. "But I had to."

The realization hits Karma like a bag of bricks. His eyes widen, he stumbles. "Nagisa, what - what did you do to me?"

"I love you," Nagisa confesses tearfully, but it's too late. The sedatives are already working - enough to take down an elephant. It should be enough to take down Karma too.

He catches Karma before his head hits the floor. And even if he spends the next few moments curled over, unable to breathe, like he is watching the slow death of everything he has ever wanted or loved, at least his tears are silent.

  
  
  
  
  


When he leaves, he takes the gun with him. He cleans up the crime scene the best he can, erasing any traces of his presence. The room was in another name. He books another, and moves Karma there. He doesn't touch Karma any more than he has to, afraid of Karma suddenly waking up, afraid of how much he wishes that Karma would. Even now, he desperately wants Karma's touch. Those few days had changed him somehow. Now that he knows what Karma feels like on his skin, it is like growing used to a layer of clothing that he suddenly no longer has.

The woman he leaves as a mystery for the local police. Despite what Karma had claimed, Nagisa knows that she won't show up in any databases and her fingerprints won't scan. She doesn't exist, just like a person once known as Nagisa Shiota.

The hotel makes the news, later, but not because of the murder. Karma Akabane makes the news for being seen leaving a seedy hotel, and everyone speculates: _does he have a secret lover? Was he involved in a secret drug deal?_ Nagisa studies the picture in the newspaper, but he can't make out the expression on Karma's face. Then he realizes what he's doing, and throws it away.

He only survives the next few days by burying himself in work. He has people to find, and places to be. At most, he has a few hours of a head start, and he has to guard that extra stolen time with his life.

Whispers start up on message boards and darknet forums. _There's a shinigami walking the streets_. People disappear from the streets, big-name Russian politicians, rich businessmen with perfect family lives and generous donations. All of a sudden, secret contacts stop picking up their phones, some numbers stop replying to texts.

Information becomes a scattered thing, too hard to gather in time, especially when the strings you are used to tugging come loose with nothing on the other end. A man goes to his death, still asking why he hasn't been paid for services rendered. People said it was the shinigami again, only that everyone knew that reapers didn't exist, not really.

_That's a thing of the past_ , they said. _No one exists like that now. Someone used to, but they're dead now._

They never realize that they are wrong until it's too late.

For the ones who see him before they die, they all describe the same thing - an innocent, almost childish face, eyes still bright with life, not the eyes of a killer. He is the last person they would have expected, bearing death to them with a sad smile, as if it were an offering.

"Why are you doing this?" they beg him, the ones who have the chance to, pleading for their lives, saying my children need me _,_ saying please, saying have mercy.

He had run out of mercy a long time ago, buried it somewhere far away and forgotten how to find it again.

"You tried to kill my friend," Nagisa tells them, the ones who deserve to know. They stare at him as if they've never heard that word before.

It takes a few weeks for his devastation to run its course.

By the end of it, the channels that used to be so full of life of activity have gone dark and quiet, slow pings every now and then like drops of blood spilling from an already-dead corpse. The smart ones disappear, leaving this life behind, or are scared away for good. The rest, Nagisa hunts down slowly, methodically, until he is doubly sure, triply sure, that he has found everyone responsible.

He doesn't think the world is a better place for it, afterwards. But he also doesn't care.

  
  
  
  
  


Karma doesn't know what wakes him up. There's something in the air that reminds him of when he was a kid, and watched an electric storm rip apart the sky from miles away, how the lightning flashed and forked and burned the air into plasma, but made no sound for seconds and seconds.

He recognizes that feeling, so he gets up and fights the urge to get the knives that he always keeps in his bottom dresser.

In the days and weeks following his encounter with Nagisa, Class 3-E redoubled their efforts in finding him. Karma called on some old contacts, some old debts. He had been so furious that he could hardly breathe. He spent long hours, imagining what he would say if he ever found Nagisa again.

He can't remember any of it now.

When he opens the sliding door, he finds Nagisa sitting on the balcony, hair and eyes glowing in the moonlight, looking like a ghost. His shoulders are bare, and his black tank top makes him blend into the darkness. He's conspicuously unarmed. And he is completely, utterly silent.

Karma looks at him and thinks, _he hasn't changed_. Even after all these years, the sight of him under the night sky is as breathtaking as ever.

Then Nagisa smiles at him, and he has never looked more like Koro-sensei than he does just at that moment.

"I've come to turn myself in," he says.


End file.
